


He Stopped for Marshmallows

by Mapgirl



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapgirl/pseuds/Mapgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs overhears Abby talking about her lack of Christmas cheer, and devises a plan to lift her spirits – with hopes of furthering their relationship along the way. Written for Zabby in the Gabby Shippers Forum SeSa 2011 Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Stopped for Marshmallows

**Spoilers** : Set in the current season, and mentions the events of 9x04.

**Prompt1** : Gibbs takes Abby to cut down a Christmas tree, but something goes wrong.

**Prompt2** : Abby wants to start new Christmas traditions.

**Author's Note** : For Zabby, as part of the Gabby Shippers Forum Secret Santa 2011 exchange. As much as I tried to make something go wrong (like my prompt requested), Gibbs and Abby just wouldn't let it happen. They were too determined to have a fantastic day.

 

Gibbs came to a pause outside of the lab door, hearing voices within. Abby sounded subdued, and that gave him reason for concern – a quiet Abby was usually something that needed paying attention to. He rested a shoulder to the wall as he shamelessly eavesdropped on her conversation with McGee.

"I'm just in a funk Tim. This whole situation with my new brother, and finding out I'm adopted, it's making it pretty hard to find my Christmas cheer this year. I won't be able to see Luca for the holidays, and I've only met Kyle twice, so it's not like I'm going to do the big family Christmas with him. I know there have been plenty of years in the past where I haven't been able to be with family for Christmas, but this year, it's different. I don't know. Maybe I just need to start a new tradition, make some new memories. Not focus on the past so much."

"Abby, you know I'm here for you, right?" McGee wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Whatever you need, you let me know, okay?" He squeezed her a little tighter, and then reluctantly let go of his friend. "I'd better go before Gibbs wonders where I am. Wanna try and grab lunch later?"

"Sure Timmy, that sounds great." Abby tried to smile, and sound enthusiastic at his offer, but she knew she wasn't too convincing.

Gibbs pushed off from the wall and strode into the lab, acting like he had just gotten there, "McGee – where are you on those financials for Seaman Nelson? Go, I want answers ten minutes ago."

McGee uttered a quick "On it, boss" and rushed out of the lab, leaving Gibbs and his forensic scientist alone.

"Hey Abbs, what do ya got for me?" He thrust a CafPow! into her hand, and began to spin her in circles on her stool, bringing her to a dizzying halt three rotations later.

"Gibbs!" Abby broke into a huge grin at his unaccustomed playfulness. "What's gotten into you?"

"Just wanted to see a smile on my girl's face," he gave a little half-smile back, then added seriously, "I heard you talking with McGee, Abbs. You okay?"

Her grin faded a little, and some of the wistfulness crept back into her voice. "Oh, I will be. I just need something to get me in the Christmas mood, and I'll be fine."

"You know my door's always open for you Abbs, if you ever need a shoulder."

"I know it is Gibbs, and that's why I love you. Now - " she straightened her shoulders, adjusted her pigtails, and wheeled up to her computer, "Abby needs to get back to work, because there's a dirtbag out there and Team Gibbs needs to catch him. I've got nail scrapings to analyze, blood spatter to process, and gunk to de-mystify. I'll call as soon as the Major starts spitting out answers, El Jefe."

"That's my girl. " He leaned in to drop a kiss to her cheek, and turned on his heel, feeling somewhat more at ease over her state of mind, but perplexed as to how he could help her.

As he left the lab, Abby turned on her stool to stare after him.  _As often as I tell him I love him, I wonder what he would do if he ever realized what I really meant. That I_ love _him?_ Maybe it was time to up the ante – make the hints she gave him regarding her real feelings a little more obvious. She smiled, and got back to work.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Three hours later, the financials McGee had been searching had revealed some major cash deposits to a hidden bank account linked to their dead Seaman. Abby had determined that the mystery gunk found on his body was a type of grease specific to the ball bearings used in a military transport vehicle, and Ducky had determined the cause of death to be the small puncture wound in the Seaman's side. DiNozzo and McGee were on their way to Norfolk to interview the motor pool, and Gibbs and Ziva were back at the crime scene, expanding their search to try and find a murder weapon that could possibly fit the thin cylindrical shape Ducky told them to look for.

Their empty lot was filled with debris, and a cold, raw wind didn't make their task any easier. As Gibbs combed his half of the bleak space, his mind wandered back to Abby. He hated seeing her so down. She'd been trying her best over the last few weeks to hide her sadness, but he's known her too well, and too long, to be fooled by her overly bright smiles and forced enthusiasm. Hearing her mention to McGee today that she wanted to do something new, make a new Christmas memory, had him wracking his brain for a plan, an idea that might appeal to her.

"I am about to go around the wall with that incessant music," Ziva suddenly snapped.

Gibbs blinked as he broke out of his reverie, and just stared at her.

"It is that music. That horrible tinny music. The same song over, and over, and over again. Do those people not have another carol they could play? I will shoot somebody soon if it does not stop."

As she spoke, Gibbs became aware of the Christmas tree lot on the corner, and realized he had been listening to an exceedingly static-y version of 'Rockin Around the Christmas Tree' since they arrived back at the crime scene. "Climb the wall Ziver. You climb walls; go around bends. As soon as we find this weapon; we can get the hell out of here. Keep searching."

A small stretch of his back and he bent over again, sweeping the ground with his intent stare for anything thin enough, and long enough to be their murder weapon. Once again his mind began to drift, this time with thoughts of Christmas trees. It had been a damn long time since he'd had a tree up in the house. Diane had liked those weird fake silvery tinsel-y ones. She took it when she left. Stephanie was allergic, so in her era they had an ugly but traditional green artificial tree, and Ex #1 – well, she didn't last long enough for Christmas. Last time he had a real tree up was his last Christmas with Shannon and Kelly. Shan had always insisted on a real tree, it was such a big deal to her to go to the lot and pick one out. She always planned a whole special day for it: digging out the ornaments, picking out the tree, cider and carols while they decorated it.

He found himself smiling at the memories, a little surprised to find the usual twisting ache in his gut wasn't there. Just happiness at a good memory. He though of how she had planned for the following year to find a tree farm and go cut down their own tree, like they had both done with their families growing up in Stillwater. There hadn't been a next year. Glancing over to the tree lot, he thought maybe it was time to get a tree again. Maybe Abby would want to help him decorate it. Maybe that could be her new tradition. Their new tradition. A frown creased between his eyebrows. Would she want to make a tradition with him?

Not for the first time in the past few weeks, he wondered about their relationship. What exactly was it between them? For so many years now she'd been a ray of light, stubbornly trying to shine into his storm cloud life. They were friends, damn good friends despite their obvious differences. She got him: brusqueness, moods, boats, basement, and all. And she seemed to like him despite it.

And he got her. Loved the giant heart she wore on her sleeve; the incredible brain housed in that quirky mind. And recently, he reluctantly admitted to himself, he'd wanted her. Lusted after her, actually. He didn't know exactly when her skirts had gone from cute to tempting. When looking at her long, lean legs didn't make him wonder how she stayed warm, but instead how they would feel wrapped around his waist. When he first wondered what it would feel like to take her hair down from those pigtails and massage his fingers into her scalp, relieving the stress of her day. Yeah, he'd always known he loved her, but now he… Well, holy shit. Apparently he was  _in love_ with his best friend.

"Gibbs!" Ziva's shout of excitement had him looking around stupidly, stunned by his little revelation to himself.

"Gibbs! I have it! There is a bloody screwdriver over here under all this trash."

They made quick work of photographing and bagging the new piece of evidence, then hurried back to the Navy Yard to get the screwdriver to Abby for testing. The rest of his day was spent looking for possible suspects, an interminable MTAC conference with Chad Dunham regarding uptick in chatter on a stolen weapons shipment in Djibouti, and forcing his sudden insight into the back of his mind until he had time that night to thoroughly consider it.

-0-0-0-0-0-

23:00 found him in his basement, intently sanding a small wooden train he was making as part of his donation to the children's hospital. A glass half full of bourbon (the good stuff tonight) sat off to the side. As he sanded, he contemplated his thoughts from earlier that day. After the first initial shock, he really wasn't that surprised. Looking back, it was actually fairly obvious. Some investigator he was – it took him years to figure out he was in love with his best friend. To be fair, he was pretty certain he hadn't been in love the entire time. Loved her – sure.  _In love_ , no probably not until the past year or so.

The big question was what to do about it?

By morning he had a plan. He swung by her lab as soon as he got to work at 07:00, knowing she'd be in already. "Mornin' Abbs, " he set a CafPow! down on the worktable for her. "Got plans this weekend?"

"Not really, church and a potluck on Sunday. The nuns mentioned something about having an extra bowling practice Friday night. Sister Rosita is off her game. She didn't get a single turkey last week. Personally, I think we should let it go, not stress on it too much, ya know? It might shake her confidence if we focus on it. But Sister Mary Charles is such a perfectionist. She really puts a lot of pressure on us sometimes. So I guess practice is on, so yeah, I guess I have some plans. Why? What's up?"

"8am Saturday. Be ready. Warm clothes, we'll be outside a while." He turned on his heel and strode out of the lab, a small grin on his face as he waited for it…

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! You can't leave me hanging! What's going on? What are we doing? Where are we going?"

"Warm clothes Abbs. Don't forget."

-0-0-0-0-0-

The day dawned cold and clear. A light snow was forecast for Saturday evening, but the day itself promised to be beautiful for mid-December. Gibbs was up early as usual. After he got the coffee going, he opened the hatch into the attic and pulled down the retractable staircase. Climbing up, he battled cobwebs as he made his way into the seldom-used space. Glancing around, he tried to spot the boxes that held his old Christmas decorations. There wasn't much up here – most of it from his first marriage. A few boxes of china (the good stuff Shannon had registered for when they got married), old toys of Kelly's like the little table and chair he had built for her when she turned three. Her cradle and crib. Shannon had held on to those in the hopes that someday they'd have another baby. He sighed at the thought. And there in a corner was what he had come for – a couple of battered boxes simply labeled 'tree' and an old metal tree stand. He lugged them down the narrow stairs, and closed up the hatch. Taking it all down to the living room, he set it in a corner for later. Noting the time, he made quick work of a shower and breakfast, then gathered a few things he thought they would need for the day. He loaded it all into his old truck, and set off to get Abby, making a slight detour and stop on the way.

He pulled up to Abby's apartment at 7:58 to find her waiting for him in the entranceway, bouncing in excitement when she saw him drive up. He got out of the cab to greet her, and walked around to open the passenger door.

"Morning Gibbs! Am I dressed warm enough?" She had on jeans (he didn't think he'd ever seen her in a pair of Levi's before – they hugged her in all the right areas), with a poufy black winter coat, heavy boots, and a cute hat snugged down over her ears. It was black and white stripes, with skulls embroidered in red; and had been modified with two holes near the top to allow her pigtails to poke through. "I've got on long johns too, to keep my legs warm" she volunteered.

"Gloves?" he questioned, looking at her bare fingers.

"Nope – mittens! Aren't they cute! I knit them to match my hat." She pulled them from the pockets of her coat and held them up for inspection. He smiled at her and ushered her into the truck cab, then loped around the front to his own door.

"Here you go Abbs." He reached down near the floorboards and lifted a stainless steel travel cup from the drink holder.

"Coffee?" she questioned, since he knew she rarely drank it.

"Nope," a little self-satisfied grin was on his face, "take the lid off for a second." Abby unscrewed the lid and took a look inside as he fumbled with a small paper bag.

"Hot chocolate! Yay!"

"Here you go," he dropped a handful of mini-marshmallows into the hot drink, " I didn't want to put those in early and have them melt on you."

"Gibbs! You rock! This is my favorite peppermint hot chocolate from the Coffee Cat! You had to go totally out of your way to get this!" She beamed at him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek – deliberately aiming a lot closer to his mouth, and lingering for a second longer than a cheek-kiss usually warranted. "Thanks. This is starting off to be a great day!"

With the kiss, an odd look flashed in his eyes, then he blinked and smiled at her. "Ready to head out?"

"Are you gonna tell me where we're going now?" She'd been bugging him for hints over the last couple of days, and all he'd given her was "Dress warm." It was driving her nuts.

"Nope."

"Come on Gibbs," she pouted as he drove. "I can investigate too you know. I'll figure this out." She pondered for a while, then ventured, "Skating?"

He gave a little snorting laugh, "Not likely Abbs."

"Skiing?"

"Not even close."

"Hmm, okay. Outdoors, need to dress warm. You drove the truck, not the Challenger." She twisted in her seat to look into the truck bed. A few ropes, and what looked to be a hacksaw. "Uhh, is that a saw I see? Are you going to kidnap me and tie me up and dismember my body?"

"Abbs, you need to get out of your lab more if all you can think of is kidnapping and dismemberment when you see a saw and rope." He gave her a little smirk, "besides, if I killed anyone, it sure wouldn't be you. I'd need you alive and by my side, to help me to get rid of all the evidence."

"Good point Gibbs. So what you're saying is you just want to tie me up?" she teased.

A hot curl of lust twisted through his gut at the smoky-voiced suggestion. He glanced at her with slightly dilated pupils, and evaluated the sly grin on her face. Was it just Abby's usual brand of teasing, or was there something a little more personal in the innuendo?

"Caught me Abbs. You figured out my master plan." He deliberately pitched his voice lower than normal to see how she would react, and gave one eyebrow a suggestive quirk.

The reaction was subtle, but he didn't miss the slight stutter in her breath, or the flare of her nostrils as she inhaled. Her green cats eyes widened slightly, and she bit on her bottom lip before answering. "Hmm, an elaborate plan with kinky undertones. Just my kind of thing."

He decided to push just a little further with the flirting. "Not tying anyone up today Abbs, but you can be damn sure that if I ever tied you up, we sure as hell wouldn't be outside, and you definitely wouldn't have on long johns."

Her approving leer heated his insides as she returned, "Duly noted Bossman, duly noted."

-0-0-0-0-0-

By unspoken agreement, they let the teasing go and drove along in companionable silence, occasionally sipping at their drinks (coffee for him, of course), until they were well outside of the city.

"Hey Gibbs," Abby started.

"Jethro" he broke in. "We're not working, and I like my friends to call me Jethro."

A smile of delight bloomed across her face. "Yay! Jethro! Jeth-ro. I like the way that rolls off the tongue."

She suddenly sobered, and turned to look at him. "Thank you. That means a lot to me – that you think of me as a friend. Cause I do – think of you as a friend I mean." She reached across the bench seat to where his right hand was resting, and turned it over so she could entwine her fingers with his. "A really, really good friend."

His stomach gave a little clench as the warmth of her hand penetrated him, and he glanced away from the road for a moment, looking at her. She returned his stare, and hesitantly cast a warm smile on him in response. Maybe he wasn't so crazy after all, thinking there might be a chance of more in their relationship. He squeezed her fingers and smiled in return, turning his attention back to the road.

Abby completely forgot whatever she had been about to ask Jethro, as she contemplated their day so far. He was certainly full of surprises, what with the request to use his given name, and with the hot chocolate. Sure, he brought her drinks all the time – but those were CafPow!'s. He could have stopped at any of a dozen corner stores between his place and hers and picked up a CafPow! for her this morning, and she wouldn't have thought twice about it. But for him to go miles out of his way to especially bring her a favorite treat? That was unusual. And to remember that she liked to add marshmallows to her hot chocolate? That spoke of pre-planning, because the Coffee Cat didn't carry mini-marshmallows. He must have brought them from home. But seriously, why would Gibbs of all people have marshmallows? So did he make a separate stop just for those too, or had he picked them up ahead of time for her? Not that he wasn't usually thoughtful, but for some reason, this just smacked of  _more_. And she could only hope what that more meant.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Before too long he slowed the truck to turn onto a narrow side road. Abby was looking out her window, and saw the sign posted in the field just before the turn. "Cedar Hills Farm – You-Cut Christmas Trees."

"Gibbs! Jethro, I mean," she gave him a wide smile, "Are we cutting our own Christmas tree? How cool! I've never done this before!"

"Good girl Abbs, all that investigating finally paid off," he teased her, "You figured it out." After a short pause he added, "Thought this might help you get in the Christmas mood."

"That's really nice of you Gibbs – thanks for thinking of something fun for me."

"I don't like it when you're not smiling Abbs, and you haven't been smiling a lot lately. I needed to do something to bring back that beautiful grin."

He brought the truck to a stop in a makeshift parking lot, next to a small weathered building that was obviously used as an office and 'store front' for the tree business. It was charmingly decorated in evergreen boughs and white fairy lights, and wood smoke puffed cheerily from a chimney. They went inside to find out where to go to look for a tree, and Abby was ecstatic to discover that they'd take a horse-drawn wagon ride to the back of the tree farm property, to the grove of trees they'd be cutting from today. Not too many people were there yet, but the pleasant lady in the office said they were smart to come early – Saturday afternoons were always crazy with families. Gibbs went back to the truck to get his saw, and they waited for the wagon to come around for it's first trip of the morning.

Abby was bubbling over with excitement as they climbed into the back of the wagon with a few other people, and sat together on a bale of hay. "This is so awesome Jethro! You totally kicked ass with this idea. Do you come here every year?"

"Nope, never been here before. Actually," he paused and a melancholy smile ghosted his lips, "I haven't cut down a tree since I was a kid. Haven't even had a real tree since Shan."

"Aww Gibbs – are you sure you're okay with doing this then?" Abby's concern for him shone in her eyes.

He turned to her and squeezed her hand. "I want to Abbs. I've already got the ornament boxes out of the attic, and the tree stand set up in the living room." He looked at her for a minute, and hesitantly ventured, "I was thinking. We can cut down two trees, one for each of us. Or," here he paused and searched her eyes, "Or – we could just get one, and you could spend Christmas with me. Bring your ornaments to my place and we could decorate together. We wouldn't be alone on Christmas."

Abby's face lit with joy at his words, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't shot down his plan.

"That's the best idea ever Jethro!" She flung her arms around him as best she could, given their precarious positions on the hay bale. "We'll have such a great time! I'll bring over everything we need to make an awesome Christmas dinner. What recipes do you have that I can make? Anything special you like to have? You'll love Grammy's Wild Rice and Pecan stuffing, and I can do our traditional Christmas Eve Gumbo. Will you come to church with me for Midnight Mass? " Abby paused in her excited ramble. "Am I getting ahead of myself? I didn't mean to invite myself over for Christmas Eve too. Never mind, it's okay. I'll just come over in the morning…" She visibly deflated as she trailed off.

"No. Christmas Eve too. Whenever you want. Spend the night. It'll be… good…to have you there. It's about time I started celebrating the holidays with real people, not ghosts."

"You'd do that for me? Give up your privacy?" Abby was a little shocked. She let her concern and affection for him show in her voice. "Jethro, I know how much you value your space, and your solitude. You know me - I don't do quiet so good. I may not be the best person to have around if you want a couple days of quiet."

"Abby, believe me, I want you there. You know me, too - I never would have made the offer if I didn't mean it. If I didn't want it. All right? No arguing. Today we're getting our tree and decorating it, and then you'll show up sometime Christmas Eve and we'll have the best holiday we can."

The wagon lurched to a stop, and the elderly driver called back, "Okay kids, Here's where we're cutting from today. Property goes back a mile from here, can't really get lost, we're all fenced in and there's signed trails. Wagon circles back around every, oh say 20-30 minutes. Have a good day!"

Gibbs hopped off the tailgate, and reached up a hand to help Abby down. He knew she didn't need his assistance, but his mama taught him manners. After he picked up his saw, they struck out along a trail, debating the merits of each species of tree they saw. Gibbs really didn't care one way or another which type they got, but he was enjoying the easy banter they were trading. Abby finally consented to the traditionalness of a Noble Fir, and they headed in a direction where they were growing, as indicated by signs. There wasn't much snow along the paths, but the recent freeze/thaw had made things icy. Gibbs reached out to Abby, taking hold of her hand as they strode along the trail.

A sly smile played across her face, and she once again started the teasing. "I'm really liking this laid-back, Saturday-morning personality, so you don't need to break out the protective Papa-bear. I'm not going to slip and fall. Unless, of course, you just wanna hold hands."

A frown crossed his face, and he didn't respond to the flirt. Abruptly he stopped walking, and turned to face her on the trail.

"What's up Gibbs? Jethro? Did I say something?"

"Is that what you really think Abby? I've heard you mention it before, in the bullpen, and to the team. You really think I'm Papa-bear?" He stared into her yellow-green eyes, waiting on tenterhooks for a reply he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"Well, sure – sometimes. You tend to get all protective when there's any kind of a threat." There was some confusion in her voice as she tried to work out why this seemed to bother him so much.

"Abby, I… Abby." He broke off trying to reply for a moment, and gathered his thoughts. Time to take the bull by the horns and go for this, whatever this was, or might become. He used their joined hands to pull her a little closer to him, and went for broke.

"Abby, while I may be protective of you, Papa-bear doesn't work as a nickname. There is absolutely nothing 'Papa'-like in anything I feel for you. You got that? Is that okay with you?" With his cobalt-blue eyes boring straight into her soul, he tugged her closer still, and pressed his winter-chilled lips to hers.

The kiss started out chaste-enough - closed-mouthed and with little movement, but with a welcome parting of Abby's lips, they crossed that invisible line into no going back. She reached a mittened hand up and around the back of his neck, and tilted her head to gain better access. Tongues flickered out, testing and teasing, invading the others' space. Eyes were closed, and breath quickened. Somewhere, sometime, Jethro dropped the saw he held in his left hand, and used it instead to curl around her waist, pulling her tight against his body. Moments – minutes, hours? – later, they pulled apart, eyes blinking open to stare in awe at the other.

Abby pressed slightly further into him with a look of lust on her face. "I swear to God Jethro, I will never, ever, call you Papa-bear again. Swear. To. God." She punctuated each of the last words with a little kiss across his jaw, before settling back over his lips. They definitely weren't cold anymore.

There was absolutely no hesitation in their second kiss. It was hungry, needy. Wanton. Months of pent-up desire coursed through her body, her need for him coiling low in her stomach. Her breasts were achy and heavy with want, and she silently cursed the layers of clothing keeping his body from hers. With a low moan, she pulled away from his determined mouth and almost whimpered, "Damn Gibbs, I want you so bad right now. Touch me, please. Just touch me."

Abby's hands desperately caressed the back of his neck, his arms, the breadth of his shoulders. He stripped the gloves from his hands, and tunneled his way beneath her heavy coat. Just as he touched skin, slipping his hands over the smooth, taut expanse of her back, the tintinnabulation of sleigh bells rang through the cold air, along with the boisterous sounds of children's laughter. Gibbs jerked his head up in shock, glancing around them.

A wry smile etched itself on his face as he pulled away from Abby. "You made me forget where we were. I guess we'd better keep this PG."

"For now Jethro. We can keep it PG for now." A wicked grin lit up her face as she whispered in his ear, "but when we get home, it's gonna be rated R. I had some high hopes for today, and I'm wearing the naughty panties to prove it."

His jaw dropped and he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Jesus Abbs, are you trying to kill me? I'm not gonna be able to walk if you drop another bomb like that."

A nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, and she innocently replied, "I was merely giving you some inspiration for finding a tree quickly."

Gibbs bent to find his dropped gloves and hacksaw, then grabbed her hand and started her walking again. "Oh, I'm inspired Abby. Believe me, I'm inspired."

As they struck out along the path again to find their tree, Abby gleefully rejoiced to herself, "I just  _knew_  those marshmallows meant something good!"


End file.
